


At Last, My Heart's An Open Door

by LostMyFlipFlop



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyFlipFlop/pseuds/LostMyFlipFlop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending a perfect nine months alone together in Lesbos and Hawaii, it's time for Brittany and Santana to get back to the real world and officially start living life together. Now, if only their crazy friends would give them some peace and quiet ... </p>
<p>Canon until 5x13</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I had issues with the last part of season 5, especially with the half assed explanation of where Brittany was during those episodes. Basically, I reject the idea that Santana would leave her stranded at an airport for god knows how long. And I started wondering what it would've been like if Brittany had been in New York that whole time and this is what has come from that. 
> 
> I should mention, Brittany, Santana, and Mercedes are the only characters I still liked by the end of the series, so there will be some major criticism of other characters, especially Rachel and Kurt, but I will try to be fair when writing them. Having said that, I will be redoing some of their storylines.
> 
> Also, I really don't like Blaine and I am of the opinion that Kurt started sucking when they started dating, so if you're a big fan of Klaine and/or Blaine, you probably don't want to read this.

    Brittany is in paradise. Both literally and figuratively. First, she’s in a deluxe suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Hawaii. Second, she’s knuckle deep inside the love of her life. So, yeah, even though her right arm is starting to get sore from exertion and her left arm is numb from keeping the majority of her weight off of Santana, Brittany’s feeling pretty good right now. Brittany starts thrusting her hips against her wrist to help ease the strain and it has the added benefit of pushing her deeper into her girlfriend’s center, or as Brittany likes to think of it, heaven. Santana moans deeply at the new pressure and throws her legs around Brittany’s waist. She’s clinging onto Brittany’s shoulders for dear life and thrusting her hips in time with Brittany’s fingers and throwing her head back while letting out more of those delicious moans and … god, Brittany loves her.

    Brittany’s never been good with words, but in moments like this, she thinks she could write enough poems to fill an anthology. She could write full sonnets on the flutter of Santana’s eyelashes as Brittany twists her fingers just so, odes to the arch of her back as Brittany circles her clit with her thumb. There should be full on epic poetry written about every fiber of Santana’s being and Brittany tries her hardest to show the full extent of her love for Santana when her words fail her.

    “Fuck, Britt, please,” Santana gasps. There’s a hint of a whine that Brittany can never resist when Santana’s this close, so she starts tapping that spot inside of Santana that always makes her eyes roll back while pressing down on her clit. Santana tenses, her walls squeezing Brittany’s fingers so hard, she starts to lose feeling in them. Santana’s eyes stare into hers, so dark they’re almost black, and Brittany’s name slips from Santana’s lips. It sounds like a benediction. The entirety of Santana’s climax is too much for Brittany and her hips thrust once more, her clit hitting her wrist and sending her over the edge, gasping Santana’s name into her neck. Her arm finally gives out and she collapses on top of Santana, exhausted. They lay there for a while, Brittany’s head on Santana’s heaving chest and her fingers still buried deep inside Santana’s still trembling heat. Santana has always needed some recovery time before Brittany could remove herself, but she doesn’t mind. Brittany thinks she could stay like this forever.

    But she can’t. Tomorrow, they’re headed to New York to officially start their lives together. Santana had managed to get her job back at the diner and Brittany had arranged a deal with MIT where she could study remotely, only traveling to Boston once a week. They were going to live with Mercedes, but since Kurt and Blaine apparently drive each other crazy when they live together (not a good omen for their impending marriage, in Brittany’s opinion), Blaine has moved in with Mercedes and dragged Sam along with him. So, Rachel and Kurt offered to share the loft with them. Santana acts like she’s annoyed at having to room with them again, but Brittany can tell she’s secretly excited. Brittany will never understand why Santana wants to be friends with them so badly. It’s clear they still don’t trust Santana after all these years, even though she’s tried so hard to prove to them she’s changed.

    In fact, they only seem to want Santana’s friendship if they can benefit from it in some way. For instance, the reason they’re going to New York tomorrow is so they can be back in time for Rachel’s opening night. Rachel had spent these past few months ignoring all contact from Santana, but as soon as she had a date  for opening night, suddenly it would be a great show of camaraderie and support for Santana to come. Since Santana actually cares about the people in glee club, she responded that there was no way she would miss it. Brittany just melts when Santana shows her soft side, so she agreed to put an end to their extended vacation. Brittany wishes she could be as excited as Santana is to go back, but really, these last few months have been amazing. Just Santana and her, living on various island paradises, no glee club drama in sight. Brittany was serious when she first asked Santana to run away with her. Sure, she misses Lord Tubbington like crazy and, as much as they sometimes embarrass her, she misses her parents, too. But if this extended vacation has proven anything to Brittany, it’s that she could happily spend the rest of her life alone, as long as Santana is by her side.

    From her position on Santana’s chest, Brittany sighs. She’s not ready for this to end. Carefully, she slides her fingers out of Santana and shifts off of her. Like a choreographed dance, Santana immediately rolls over, throws her arm around Brittany’s waist, and cuddles into her side. Brittany sighs again, this time out of contentment. She runs her fingers through Santana’s hair and Santana melts further into her. She tries not to think about how everything’s going to change now that they have to return to the real world.

    “You keep scrunching your face like that, it’s going to freeze that way, Britt-Britt,” Santana reaches up and rubs at the wrinkles between Brittany’s eyebrows. Brittany can’t help but smile a little at Santana’s cuteness.

    “I was just thinking about everything we have to take care of when we get back. I wish we could just stay like this forever,” Brittany concentrates on stroking Santana’s arm. Santana sighs.

    “I know, babe. I’ve never been happier than I’ve been these last few months. But we’ve completely run out of money and my dad isn’t going to keep paying for all these upscale hotels. We’ve got to get back, get a good foundation for our future,” Santana sits up a little, smirking slightly. “Because I intend on giving my future wife everything her heart desires and I can’t do that if we’re living in a cardboard box.”

    Brittany bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too big. Since they’ve met, she’s known Santana is the one she wants to spend the rest of her life with and it’s nice when Santana acknowledges that she feels the same way. And Santana’s right, to have the future she can see so clearly, they need to start somewhere. Brittany supposes New York is as good a place to start as any. She nods and reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp.

    “You always know just what to say to ease my mind.” She and Santana get situated under the covers, tangled together as always. As she drifts off to sleep, Brittany thinks that maybe paradise is actually wherever Santana is.


	2. Opening Night

“Lord Tubbington, mama’s home!” Brittany exclaims as she bursts through her bedroom door, Santana-less. The plan had been that both of them would stop off in Lima for a few days first, to visit their families and pick up a few things they had forgotten in their rush to start their vacation, and then continue on to New York. And then Kurt had called. Apparently, the closer the opening of Funny Girl came, the more Rachel was panicking. After supposedly trying everything he could to get Rachel to snap out of her funk, Kurt had decided the only person who could do that was Santana. Brittany doesn’t know why it had to be her, Kurt is supposed to be Rachel’s best friend. But, being the loving, caring person Brittany knows she is, Santana had changed her flight to go directly to New York and Brittany headed on to Lima to get the things they needed and would arrive in New York the day of Funny Girl’s opening. So, Santana is in New York and Brittany is in Lima. Still, she was happy to see her parents and Lord Tubbington again, even if the latter had been a little standoffish with Brittany during their last few Skype sessions.

At her greeting, Lord Tubbington looks up at Brittany from his regal pose on her bed, seems to think things over, and, having made his decision, turns his head pointedly away from her. Apparently, he’s still irate with her. Brittany sighs and goes over to him, kneeling on the floor to be on his level.

“Look, I know you’re upset with me for being gone so long,”

Lord Tubbington looks down his nose at her.

“Ok, and I’m only here for a few days before I leave again. And you’re mad I can’t take you with me because Rachel has a cat allergy and ‘what would happen if my reaction to his dander affected my throat? I can’t have that when I’m trying to get established on broadway, Brittany!’”

She’s pretty impressed with her Rachel impression, Lord Tubbington less so, as he raises his chin haughtily. She sighs.

“You know I would take you with me if I could. I’m going to try really hard to find a good paying job so Santana and I can get our own apartment and send for you.” She scratches him in that spot under his chin that he loves and he can’t help but soften after that. She smiles as he starts purring in earnest.

“That’s my boy. But, look, when I leave again, you have to promise me you’ll behave. Don’t think I don’t know about that coup against the Lima City Council you were planning while I was in Lesbos,” she gives him a stern look.

Lord Tubbington, who had closed his eyes in contentment, now directs a challenging look at Brittany.

“I’m serious,”she says, holding his eye contact. “New York is much bigger than Lima. I can’t have you causing that much chaos. You’ll need to comport yourself better.”

With that, Lord Tubbington turns his head away from Brittany, although it would seem he doesn’t think it worth the energy to remove his body completely from her presence. Brittany sighs. She tries and tries to get through to him, but she guesses she can only lead him so far. He’s got to take it the rest of the way.

A knock sounds at the door. “Brittany sweetie, can I come say hi to my little girl?” Brittany smiles at the sound of her dad’s voice.

“Come on in, dad!” Brittany’s missed her father. She knows he’s most likely not her biological father, she’s got to be the least Asian-looking person on the planet, but he’s always treated her like a daughter. He’s been to every soccer meet, every basketball game, every cheerleading and glee club competition, always cheering louder than any of the other kids’ parents. And he’s never failed to share with Brittany the wonder he sees in the world. It’s because of her dad that Brittany, even though she’s known since she was a kid that they weren’t real, still believes in Santa Claus, unicorns, leprechauns, and all the other magical creatures of the world. He’s shown her that life is so much better with countless possibilities. So Brittany has no problem thinking of Pierce as her real dad. Because, to her, he is.

“So, how is my little world traveler?” Pierce grins at Brittany as he enters her room and sits down at her desk chair. Brittany moves from the floor to the armchair by her bed.

“I’m really great. Exhausted and hungry from the flight, but great,” Brittany grins.

“Was your lesbian island all you hoped it would be?” Pierce asks with wide eyes. Brittany shrugs.

“Well, it turns out it’s not a lesbian island. But I did find out that there used to be this famous poet from Lesbos, Sapphos, and I guess all she wrote about was kissing other girls and that’s why they’re called lesbians today. So, that’s pretty cool.”

Pierce nods blankly. “I guess every place is as lesbian as you make it.”

Brittany blinks at that. She thinks back on her trip and how unwavering Santana’s affection for her, even publicly, had been and how Lesbos and Hawaii had seemed like the gayest places on earth.

“You know, dad, I think you may be on to something.”

Pierce smiles. Then frowns, thinking hard about something. “I could’ve sworn I came up here to tell you something and not just ask about your trip.”

Whitney yells up the stairs, “Pierce! You didn’t forget to tell Brittany that dinner is ready, did you?”

“Oh yeah!” Pierce exclaims as the look of confusion leaves his face. He gets up and turns to look at Brittany. “Brittany, your mother would like you to know that dinner is ready.” And with that, he leaves her room.

Brittany just smiles and shakes her head. Yeah, it’s really good to be home.

 

* * *

   

Brittany races from the bathroom into her bedroom, diving onto her bed and reaching for her phone on the nightstand before the last strains of “Songbird” fade away.

“Hey honey!” she exclaims breathlessly, turning onto her back.

“Good morning, baby,” Santana’s raspy voice comes over the line. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, considering I was missing my favorite body pillow.”

“I know the feeling. I had to use Jo just to get to sleep.”

Brittany raises an eyebrow at that. “Who’s Jo? Should I be jealous?”

“No, um, Jo is what I call the girlfriend pillow that Kurt got for me when I first came to New York,” Brittany can practically hear the blush in Santana’s voice. It’s all kinds of adorable and Brittany can’t help but tease her a little.

“Girlfriend pillow, huh? I’d better up my game or I’ll be out of a job.”

Santana snorts. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much if I were you. Jo’s cuddles only do so much and I really could’ve used some legit Britt-Britt snuggles after the latest episode of the Bold and the Berry.”

Brittany wrinkles her nose. “Was it that bad?”

“Well,” Santana sighs, “I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t the worst Berry meltdown of all time. I don’t even think Kurt tried that hard before sending me the distress call, all I had to do was remind her that there are always going to be people out there who want to tear her down and that she should use that to motivate her. I mean, really, I don’t think the conversation even took fifteen minutes and lo and behold, this morning she’s back to her overbearing, egotistical self. And for that,” her voice turns soft, “I had to come back to New York, all alone, without you.”

Brittany pulls her lips up into a melancholic smile. It would seem Rachel’s freak out, in typical glee club fashion, had been a minor incident blown completely out of proportion. What’s worse is that neither Rachel nor Kurt would see how truly selfless Santana’s early arrival in New York was. “Yeah,” she sighs, “it sucks that you had to change our plans for what essentially boiled down to nothing. But, I’ll be there before you know it and then the peasants better watch out because we’re going to rule that town!”

“You got that right!” Santana’s giggling stops suddenly as several voices fill the background. “Hey Britt, I hate to cut this call short but Kurt and Rachel want to take me out to brunch.”

“That’s ok, have fun and tell Jo not to get too handsy tonight or she’ll have to deal with your super intimidating girlfriend.”

“I’ll make sure to pass along the message,” Santana chuckles. “Oh! I almost forgot, when you swing by my parents’ house, make sure you don’t forget to grab, um, that thing we discussed that we really, really want with us in New York.”

Brittany shudders at how low and raspy Santana’s voice becomes. She smirks and mumbles lowly, “don’t worry, baby. It’s at the top of my list of things to pack.”

“Mmm. I can always count on you. Maybe we can get reaquainted with it tomorrow real quick before Rachel’s show,” Santana husks and Brittany subconsciously presses her thighs together. Before she can respond, more yelling comes from the background. She pouts as she overhears Kurt saying something about how there’s not enough time for phone sex. Santana’s muffled voice yells at him to keep his panties on. “Britt? Sorry, but I really have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Brittany hangs up and holds her phone to her chest.

“What’s at the top of your list to pack?” Brittany sits upright and finds her sister standing in the doorway.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Sydney. How long have you been standing there?”

“Awhile. I wanted to talk to you but you were too busy gushing over Santana, so I just waited for you to hang up.” Sydney, unlike Brittany, is very clearly Pierce Pierce’s child. She looks exactly like him, from her black hair to her short stature. Her bluntness and attitude, however, come directly from their mother. Brittany closes her eyes and composes herself before she responds.

“Syd, we talked about this. You really need to start respecting my privacy.”

“Excuse me for wanting to spend time with my sister! I haven’t seen you in nine months and before that, you were too busy at MIT to talk to me.” Sydney crosses her arms and looks down at the carpet. “I miss hanging out with you.” Brittany sighs and pats the space beside her on the bed. Sydney climbs up on the bed and cuddles into Brittany’s side. Brittany holds her close.

“I’m sorry, Syd, I never meant to ignore you. It’s just, being a grown up is hard. I have to figure out what I want to do with my life and try to provide for myself at the same time. And, in trying to do that, sometimes relationships get neglected. But I promise to be better about calling you, ok?” Sydney just shrugs.

“I’m just worried. New York’s a big place and I’m scared it’ll swallow you up and I’ll never talk to you again.”

Brittany’s stomach swoops, like it’s been doing lately every time she thinks about living in New York. “You know Syd, you’re the only person I’ve told this to, but I’m scared of moving to New York, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s so different from Lima. I’ve always been a small town girl, what if I can’t hack it in a big city?”

Sydney wrinkles her brow. “So why move to New York when you can just stay here? I’m sure Mrs. Higgins would give you a job at the dance studio and you could get an apartment close by, that way you won’t be a loser twenty-something still living with her parents. And I could sleep over every weekend and we could stay up all night eating ice cream and having dance parties. And Santana could live with you, because that girl loves you so much, I know she’d follow you anywhere.”

Brittany smiles bittersweetly. “That does sound like a nice, easy life, Syd. But I can’t stay in Lima. I’m scared of living in New York, sure, but sometimes you have to face your fears head on. Because I could be a massive failure there, but I could also do something really great and how would I know if I don’t at least try?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And, yes, Santana would totally live in Lima with me if I asked. But she would suffocate if she stayed here. She needs to be someplace that will allow her to grow and I don’t want to be the person who keeps her from achieving her full potential.”

“Well, if you’re really going to New York, can I at least come visit you sometimes?”

Brittany smiles softly. “I would love for you to come visit, if it’s ok with mom and dad. In the meantime, I have to pick up a few things from the Lopezes' house, but after that, how about you and I spend the day together?”

Sydney’s entire face lights up at that and Brittany’s chest fills with warmth at the sight. “Yes! That sounds awesome! I’m going to go get ready!” With that, Sydney rushes out of Brittany’s room. Brittany chuckles. She’s going to have to remember to call her more when she’s in New York.    

* * *

 

Brittany’s got a face full of old man crotch. It’s been staring her down for the last ten minutes while it’s owner, a hard faced, stubborn old man smelling of mothballs and her grandfather’s basement, struggles to remove his carry on from the overhead compartment. He had spent fifteen minutes before the flight trying to get his clearly over-regulation sized suitcase to fit, flat out refusing to let the flight attendant store it with the checked luggage. And now he seems to be having a harder time removing it. Brittany leans back further in her seat and looks to her left to avoid the awkwardness that is old man bulge and remembers why she had pointedly not looked out the window at all during her flight. A just barely pubescent boy sits in the window seat. He’s all pimples and unwashed hair and stinking of Axe body spray and Brittany’s pretty sure he hasn’t breathed through his nose once through the entire flight. Oh, and he hasn’t stopped staring at Brittany since she sat down. Like, not glimpsing at her discretely, but flat out staring right at her, like he’s never seen a woman in real life before and thinks she might disappear if he looks away. So, yeah, Brittany tries her hardest not to look his way. All in all, this is not how she imagined her triumphant return to New York going.

Brittany sighs and looks at her watch. She was supposed to make it to New York well before Rachel’s broadway opening, but due to thunderstorms in Dayton, her flight was delayed by three hours. The show must be halfway through the second act by now. It’s not that Brittany is so eager to see Rachel’s show, in all honesty, she’s fallen asleep every time she’s tried to watch Funny Girl, it’s just that she’s been away from Santana for two days now and, after seeing Santana’s beautiful smile every morning for the last nine months, well, two days without her feels like an eternity. As pathetic as it sounds, Brittany just wants to be back in Santana’s arms, where she belongs.

With one final wheeze, Old Man Bulge finally manages to loosen his suitcase from the overhead compartment. Brittany breathes a sigh of relief as he moves towards the front of the plane, taking his bulge with him. She stands up, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, and hurries out of the metal tube from hell. After picking up her suitcase from luggage claim and waiting half an hour for a taxi, she finally checks her phone to see a message from Santana telling her that the show has let out and everyone is headed to some gay dance club in the Village. Even though she feels grimy from the flight and, with her oversized cat shirt, leggings, and cowboy boots, she’s not really dressed for a night on the town, she ultimately can’t stand the thought of not seeing Santana for one more night. So, after swinging by the loft to drop off her suitcase and backpack, she heads straight for the club.

Of course, heading straight for the club means being stuck in traffic for another two hours. It would seem there’s an accident on the Brooklyn Bridge and that’s enough to stop traffic in the entire borough. After what feels like an eternity, Brittany walks through the doors of the club and her relief immediately fades. It’s packed inside. Steeling herself, she fights her way through the crowd into the bowels of the club, keeping her eyes open for Santana. Or any friendly face, really. She heads towards the bar first, thinking she’ll be able to get a better view of the dance floor.

A sparkle catches Brittany’s eye and her heart leaps as she recognizes the person she's staring at; she'd recognize her anywhere. Santana has her arms up, swaying to the beat of the song, and even though her back is to her, Brittany can tell that her eyes are closed. She smiles, it's obvious Santana is a little tipsy. Suddenly, Santana turns around and locks eyes with Brittany.

_Britt-Britt!_ it looks like Santana yells, although it's too loud for Brittany to hear, and a huge grin lights up her face. She stumbles her way through the crowd towards Brittany, and, ok, she’s more than a little tipsy. Brittany can't help the smile that takes over her face and she rushes to meet Santana in the middle. Brittany wraps her arms around Santana’s waist as Santana more or less falls into her. She doesn't have time to think before Santana’s lips are on hers and her tongue is in her mouth. She tastes like tequila and it's clear now that she's way past tipsy and is onto full-on drunk.

The kiss is a little sloppy, but Brittany can’t help but moan anyway. She’s really missed Santana. After several minutes, Santana removes her tongue from Brittany’s mouth and brings her lips to Brittany’s ear.

“I’m so glad you're here, baby," she says with only a slight slur.

Brittany holds her tighter, nuzzling her neck a little. “Mmm, me too. I think I was having a horrible day, but I can't remember now."

“Don’t worry, baby. Santana’ll make it all better. Hey!” she pulls back to look at Brittany. “We need to get you a couple of drinks so you can catch up!” Santana turns towards the bar but Brittany pulls her back before she can get too far, her back pressed tight against Brittany’s front. Brittany gently bites her earlobe, relishing the shudders that rush through Santana’s body as a result.

“Later. First, I want to dance with my girlfriend.” Santana leans back into Brittany’s body and they start moving to the beat as one. Brittany doesn’t know what song is playing and, quite frankly, she doesn’t care. Santana’s ass grinds back into her hips in time with the beat, she reaches back, burying her hand in the hair on the back of Brittany’s head, and Brittany’s certainly not complaining about the view down Santana’s dress that their position affords her. As they dance, Brittany loses track of time. All she cares about is Santana being here in her arms.

"Alright you two, no sex on the dance floor." Brittany looks up to see Mercedes standing in front her and Santana, hands on her hips but a smile playing at her lips. Brittany looks down, just now noticing how her hand rests high on Santana’s thigh, mostly underneath her dress. It's probably a little too indecent for a public place.

Brittany sheepishly removes her hand.

"Sorry. Forgot we were in public."

Santana giggles into her neck. Mercedes just rolls her eyes.

"If you two are done, Kurt wants to buy everyone a round of celebratory shots, now that you're finally here, Brittany. Welcome back, by the way."

"Yes! Shots!" Santana exclaims as she grabs Brittany’s hand and drags her over to the bar where the rest of their friends have gathered.

Everyone greets Brittany enthusiastically as Kurt hands out the shots of tequila.

"It's nice of you two to join us," Tina jokes. Santana levels a faux glare her way.

"If you wanted our attention, you could've come gotten us yourselves."

"We were going to but you two looked like you were, um, busy getting reaquainted, until Mercedes got fed up, that is," Blaine chuckles. Santana just shrugs and turns to the bar to get another shot.

Brittany turns towards Rachel.

"Congrats, Rachel." It's her big night, Brittany figures she should be polite.

Rachel’s show-grin lights up her face.

"Why, thank you, Brittany!"

"So, how'd it go? Am I going to get a chance to see it or was it bad enough to be an opening night/closing night kind of thing?"

Ok, so she can't help teasing her a little. Rachel’s smile falters a little before she steels herself.

"Well, if the enthusiastic response from the audience tonight was anything to go by, you'll have months, years even, to catch the show! Of course, the reviews have yet to come out, but history shows that a weak review doesn't necessarily ..."

Brittany is blessedly distracted from Rachel’s ramble by a hot, wet tongue licking a stripe up her neck. She shivers as Santana’s hot breath hits her ear.

“C’mon, Britt-Britt. Let’s do body shots.”

She shakes some salt on Brittany’s neck and then takes her sweet time licking it off. Actually, there’s not a whole lot of licking, mostly sucking, and when Santana reaches a certain spot on her neck, Brittany’s eyes roll back in her head. It’s taking all her willpower to not just throw Santana up on the bar and have her way with her. Eventually, Santana pulls back, takes the shot, and bites the lime, her eyes never leaving Brittany’s the whole time. Once she’s finished with the lime, she tosses the rind on the counter and holds up a second shot. She levels a smoldering look at Brittany and smirks.

“Your turn.”

Brittany bites her lip. Santana’s playing her favorite game and, seeing as Brittany’s so aroused she’s about to pass out, she’s winning. But Brittany’s never one to back down from a challenge. She places the lime between Santana’s lips and, silently thanking Santana for choosing to wear such a low cut dress tonight, she quickly pours some salt on her cleavage and leans down, licking and sucking at all the skin she can find between her breasts. Santana gasps and Brittany smirks into her skin; she thinks she may have won this round. She stands up and takes the shot. Seeing Santana’s hooded eyes, however, is too much, and she grabs the lime from Santana’s mouth with her teeth, spitting it somewhere in the direction of the bar, and crushes her lips to Santana’s.

“Ah, hell to the no! You two are not going to spend the whole night trying to get arrested for indecent exposure!”

At Mercedes’ cry, Brittany is torn away from Santana’s mouth. For the first time, she realizes they have an audience; all of their friends are looking at them in various stages of embarrassment. She’s about to apologize when she hears a sniffling from beside her.

“God, Mercedes! I haven’t seen my girlfriend in two days, is it so bad that I just want to be as close to her as possible right now?” Santana’s valiant effort to keep her tears at bay are all for naught and she hides her face in Brittany’s shoulder. Mercedes groans.

“Whatever. I’m going to go dance, y’all do what you want.”

With that, she makes off towards the dance floor, Sam following her like a lost puppy. The rest of their friends either head to the dance floor themselves or turn their focus towards flagging down a bartender to get more drinks. Santana’s still got her face buried in Brittany’s shoulder and Brittany holds her tight, knowing there’s not much more she can do right now. A few minutes pass and Santana lifts her head from Brittany’s shoulder, bringing one hand up to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes. Brittany smiles softly at her.

“Feeling better?”

“I just don’t understand what’s so bad about wanting to be intimate with you when we’ve been apart,” Santana’s got the most adorable pout on her face. “Why can’t they just leave us alone?”

“I know, honey. Tell you what, let’s get through the night and when we get home, we can be super intimate. Sound good?”

Santana’s face stays serious as she seems to think this over. Finally, she nods.

“Yeah, that sounds really good.”

A determined look crosses her face and she takes Brittany’s hand, leading them into the thick of the dance floor. They spend the rest of the night switching between getting drinks at the bar (although no more shots, Brittany always cuts those off once emotional Santana makes an appearance) and dancing with their friends. When the club closes, they all pile into taxis and head back to Bushwick, picking up a copy of the freshly released New York Times on their way. Rachel gets glowing reviews, of course, and the party continues at the loft for awhile longer.

Once everyone finally calls it a night (morning?), they all retreat to their respective beds. Santana drags a bone-tired Brittany to their own little corner of the loft, pulling the drapes around a space barely big enough to hold a double sized bed. Brittany falls back onto the bed, not even caring that she’s still in the same clothes she’s worn for almost 24 hours now; she’s ready to cuddle up with Santana and go to sleep.

“Don’t even think about it,” Santana says as she removes Brittany’s boots. “You have a promise to keep, Miss Pierce.”

Brittany manages to crack an eye open at Santana, who is now pulling Brittany’s leggings and underwear down her legs.

“Look, I know I said would be super intimate when we got home but I honestly don’t think I can move right now.”

Santana doesn’t respond, just crawls up Brittany’s body, pushing her shirt up over her breasts and reaching under her to undo the clasp on her bra.

“Seriously, Santana, let’s just get some sleep and I promise I’ll rock your world when we wake up.”

Brittany’s really impressed that Santana has managed to remove every single article of her clothing without Brittany herself having to move at all. Santana undresses herself and climbs back on top of Brittany before pressing a scorching kiss to her lips.

“I know you’re tired, baby. Why don’t you just relax and let me make you feel good?”

At Brittany’s nod, Santana trails kisses down her body before settling between her legs. She waits a beat, her eyes meeting Brittany’s with a look so passionate it makes Brittany forget how to breathe. She finally moves her head the remaining distance and, all of a sudden, Brittany is wide awake. She had thought her arousal had faded as the night had gone on, but with the first swipe of Santana’s tongue, it’s back in full force. She can’t help her moans as Santana thrusts her tongue into her heat and then licks up to swirl around her clit, a move she does over and over again. It’s obvious that Brittany is going to come embarrassingly quick and, sure enough, all it takes is Santana finally wrapping her glorious lips around her clit and sucking hard and Brittany is tensing as she falls over the edge, one hand clutching the headboard, the other grasping the back of Santana’s head. She tries to scream Santana’s name but finds her lungs are void of air.

Santana takes her time cleaning Brittany up as she comes down from her high before climbing back up her body and kissing her deeply and then settling into her side. Brittany’s exhaustion comes crashing back, her orgasm having sapped the last of her energy. She moves her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Santana’s head. Her voice is gravelly when she speaks.

“That was amazing but I’m going to need a minute before I return the favor.”

Even though she has her eyes closed, she knows Santana is smiling.

“Thanks babe but you should really get some sleep.”

“But …” she stops abruptly when Santana presses a finger to her lips.

“You’ve had a long day, Britt, and we have the rest of our lives for you to return the favor,” she insists, using her softest voice. The one she only ever uses when speaking to Brittany. “Right now, I’m content to just sleep in yours arms again.”

Brittany holds Santana closer; her smile stays on her lips as she blissfully slips into a deep sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Secret Love" made famous by Doris Day. I think it's the perfect late season 2 or early season 3 Santana song and I am greatly disappointed that they didn't have her sing it on the show. Check it out:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FL87sHjXlVU


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